


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Shelf 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



SSsrasaKiKcZ-' 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER 



OCCASIONAL VERSES 



EDWARD R. JOHNES 



o. MM " 



NEW YORK 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

182 FIFTH AVENUE 
1879. 



r 






COPYRIGHT BY 

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. 
iS7q 



TO 



HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 



PREFACE. 



The poems contained in this volume have been 
written at different times as fancy suggested a sub- 
ject and time permitted its elaboration. A desire 
that the fruits of my labor should not be scattered 
and lost, together with a certain literary ambition 
have led to the publication of this volume. 

My title is intended more to assert the often 
denied right of the Bar to express itself otherwise 
than in prose, than to mark the character of my 
verses, which were composed largely as relaxation 
from professional duties. 

Previous to the dedication of this book I wrote 
to Mr. Longfellow the following letter : 

My Dear Mr. Longfellow : 

The pleasure and advantage that I have derived from 
your works and the delight that I have experienced in your 
society, make me desirious of dedicating my first literary ven- 
ture to you. I enclose the corrected proof that I may with 
better grace request your permission to inscribe it to you. I 
know the dedication can add no lustre to your name, and 
simply ask that I may add honor to my own. 

Yours, sincerely, &c, 



vi PRE FA CE. 

In response to this I have had the honor of re- 
ceiving a most kind letter from Mr. Longfellow, 
expressing his willingness to accept the compliment, 
as he is good enough to call it, of my dedication ; 
so that I am at least not chargeable with a forced 
dedication. 

I now commit my little book, with mingled feel- 
ings of hope and fear, to the critics and the public. 

THE AUTHOR. 



CONTENTS 



The Fancy Ball 


3 


The Horoscope .... 


7 


The Outcast . . 


9 


At Home and at the "German" 


ii 


A Morning Welcome . 


13 


Another's ..... 


15 


At Last ..... 


17 


The Last Night at Home 


20 


My Kate .... 


• 23 


The Midnight Chime, Jan. i 


25 


"After" .... 


. 29 


Drifting ..... 


3i 


The Caique .... 


35 


Album Verses .... 


33 


L'Envoy ..... 


40 


The Law and the Lady . ' . 


42 


Honest Lawyers 


■ 42 


Just as You Are .... 


43 


"A Rose You Gave" . 


• 44 


The Porte Bonheur 


46 


Yesterday, To-day and Forever 


. 4 s 


The Coming of the Frost 


49 



CONTENTS. 



Alternatives . 

Lost . 

The Fountain of Fijeh 

King Carnival 

The Blighted Flower 

The Masquerade . 

Morning Twilight 

Drinking Song 

" Rest My Baby Queen ' 

When She is Gay . 

Fountain Abbey 

Fate . 

Lydia 

Flowers of Palestine 



COLLEGE POEMS. 



A Vision of Autumn . 

Day Dreams 

Our Songs 

A Dollar or So 

Disconsolate . 

A Geological Romance 

The Spirit of Sadness 

On the Bay 

Parting Ode 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE FANCY BALL. 

The queen will go to the fancy ball 

Where gallants are noble, and ladies are fair, 

And has singled me out from her courtiers all, 
And has deigned to demand of me " what shall I 
wear ?" 

For music will sound and glasses will clink 
And diamonds will gleam and lights will flare, 

And care will be drowned in the goblet's brink. 
And laughter ring out on the summer air. 

And the crowning glory must be the Queen, 
Decked in a costume ne'er Avorn before, 

Half masked, but revealed by her stately mien 
And the face that her subjects are glad to adore. 



4 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

What shall she wear — when a new disguise 
To her can be only a duplicate charm, 

To blend with her smile, and the flash of her eyes, 
And to thrill her subjects with novel alarm? 

Disguise — ah me, is the moon disguised 

Because the thin clouds that are wafted o'er 
heaven 

Float over her face ? Nay, the angels devised 
A change that increases the glory of even. 

But what shall she wear ? 'Tis a difficult task 
When like al'baster lamp with the light shining 
through, 
She would shine through her costume. Ah why did 
she ask 
A question to make even OEdipus blue ! 

Shall she go like summer, in crown of flowers, 
Or glitter like winter in shimmering spray ? 

Nay, her smile is our summer through all the hours, 
And winter is frosty and chilling and grey. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 5 

The maid of the lake comes next to my mind 

Who ruled o'er an isle, Oh pitiful thought 
When she reigns o'er the warm beating hearts of 
mankind 
And o'er such a realm her enchantment hath 
wrought. 

Now fact is prosaic, romance is unreal, 

Book queens are unlucky and subjects are low, 

Religion and science refuse to reveal 

Where to look for her masque, so where shall I go? 

I will go to the queen, where she sits on a throne, 
Where'er she may be, her palace is there, 

With a fan for a sceptre, and then I shall own 
My utter disgrace, and my shame I'll declare. 

I'll say — I will tell her — I dare not suggest 

What robe she shall wear, for the thought should 
come 

From herself, and then it were surely the best, 
For when she approves, the critics are dumb. 



O BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

And whatever her choice, I would fain be there 
To feast my eyes and to tangle my heart 

In the silken web of her shining hair. 

And linger the last when the throngs depart. 

And long may she reign, our queen and our pride, 
O'er the hearts where she's throned with each 
holiest thought. 

Here's defeat to her rivals, and sorrow betide 
Who says that she lacks of perfection in aught ! 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE HOROSCOPE. 

To every one at birth God gives a star, 
A guide, a guard, the mirror of his soul, 

Casting its radiant influence afar 

And marking tides of passion as they roll. 

The power of love, the blaze of cruel ire, 

Actions that turn on changing hopes and fears, 

We find reflected in the heavenly fire, 

And all our deeds are known among the spheres. 

Alas, that ever hope and love should die 

In human breast ; alas that wrath should scorch 

Till from the heavenly index quick should fly 
Pure gentle light — leaving a smouldering torch ! 

And if inactive grows the torpid soul; 

Ah piteous sight ! the star we love grows dim 
And quenched the radiance of the celestial pole 

It sinks forever 'neath the horizon's brim. 



8 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Maid of my heart I've seen in yonder sky 
The star whose placid light doth image thee, 

'Mid thousand glories my discerning eye 
Selects the mirror of thy purity. 

Dear star be ever bright and ever pure 

Guide in the night her footsteps to her home, 

Bid her not let the darker paths allure 

And gild her brow when she hath ceased to roam. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE OUTCAST. 
No more I live, but only suffer life, 
No more I sleep, but writhe in awful dreams, 
And joy and peace are dead, and earth is rife 
With many a mockery that smiling seems. 

A veil the future screens, I dare not lift, 
Yet as the winds of passion move its folds, 
My gloomy hopes to hopeless darkness shift, 
And my soul shudders when my eye beholds. 

Backward I turn my gaze, and find remorse 
Reaching with vulture claws toward my heart, 
And grief and agony, and many a corse 
Of buried days, that from me will not part. 

Above I turn, and find the heavens black- 
He whom I scorned hath blasted with his curse 
The stars I loved, and on my awful track 
Dim, lying swamp-lights lead from bad to worse. 



) BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

See, where I tread, the scorpion and the snake, 
Born of my crimes, arise to strike and kill ; 
And mire and pits my wav'ring courage shake, 
And spectres from deep hell my life-blood chill. 

Hedged in with death and crime and visions dread, 
Shut out from love and peace, from light and God, 
Better, O mother, had I been born dead, 
Than born the curse of the Almighty's rod ! 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



AT HOME AND AT THE "GERMAN. 

You'll seek the fireside warm to-night 

While I, in fashion's train, 
Will watch the diamonds glancing bright, 

And eyes that flash again. 

You'll find a golden store of dreams 

And recollections fair 
Within the coals, — while only seems 

The look of joy I wear. 

You'll fill your mind, and warm your heart, 
With thoughts from noble books, 

But I will guage, in folly's mart, 
The price of folly's looks. 

When I, unsatisfied, return 

From bright but empty show, 
To-morrow's visage looking stern, — 

Within my mind will grow 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

The thought that fashion pays her slaves 

Small wages at the best, 
And early rounds, with unknown graves, 

The lives that know no rest. 

And so I'd rather be with you, 

Discussing e'en a sermon, 
Than looking gay, but feeling blue, 

While dancing at the German. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



A MORNING WELCOME. 
Before the footsteps of the sun, 
Across morn's golden threshold run, — 
Before he lifts the mists away 
That curtain earth at break of day, — 
Before his smiling beams confess 
Fair Nature's wondrous loveliness, — 
He colors with his wondrous dyes 
The fleecy clouds that fleck the skies, 
And hails the beauty of his queen 
With amber, crimson, and with green. 
And it might seem a gift of flowers 
Fresh culled from Eden's blooming bowers, 
Strewn wide upon an azure sky 
In morn's sweet breath their perfumes lie. 

And so before I enter in 

To where my Phyllis lies in sleep, 

Before I lift the curtain thin 

That doth soft guard above her keep, 



14 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Before her eyes unclose, so filmy 

With the tangled threads of dreams, 

Before her loving kisses thrill me, 

And life a blest Arcadia seems, 

I bear a garland of fair flowers, 

Kissed by the sunbeams and the showers, — 

To welcome from the land of dreams, 

— Her cheeks soft flushed with roseate gleams 

My Phyllis, — thus with varied dyes 

To rival Phoebus' tinted skies. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. I 5 



ANOTHER'S. 
Her eyes are bright, and in their depths 

A gentle spell I see ; 
They sparkle, but alas, the truth ! 

They do not shine for me. 

Soft are her lips — their tempting lines, 

Curved like a Cupid's bow, 
Invite a kiss, but I, alas ! 

Their kisses ne'er shall know. 

Her cheeks — the lily and the rose 

Combined there seem to be ; 
But though their changing beauty charms, 

They do not blush for me. 

Those little hands, whose velvet touch 

Hath power for joy or woe, 
They charm and tempt, but I in love 

Their pressure may not know. 



1 6 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

I've often thought my heart would know 

A happiness divine, 
That life would all unruffled flow, 

If only — she were mine. 

But oh I know 'tis sadly true 

Possession breaks the spell 
That chains to many lovely things, 

As many hearts could tell. 

Farewell, forever, — in my dreams, 

I'll hold thee to my breast, 
And feel my heaven is on earth, 

By thy soft hand caressed. 

And though awaking I shall find 

My happiness was vain, 
Upon its memory I shall live, 

Until I dream again. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



AT LAST. 

Just as life's little day draws to its close, 
And dim and ill-defined the landscape grows 
That I have loved so long ; just as the night 
Spreads its dark wings before my fading sight, 
My soul begins to see. 

And from my spirit's eye the scales of sin 

Fall down at touch of death, as though some hand 

Had burst a prisons's door, and ushered in 
A throng of joyous sunbeams to a band 
Condemned — that would be free. 

Is it death's hand that openeth mine eyes ? 

There's that within the touch I've known before, 
In times of suffering. A magic lies 

In its soft tenderness, I must adore. 
If it my Lord should be. 



lb BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Kind death, sweet Lord, to let me see the world 
Enlarged by finer sight, until my soul, 

Though with the speed of angel's pinions whirled, 
Scarcely could view the vast, the glorious whole 
In all eternity. 

I have known Nature only in the flowers 
Decking her locks, or in the tearful showers 
That told me when she wept. Ne'er has mine eyes 
Gazing in her's, drunk its full mystery ; 
- And she was dumb to me. 

Or, if she spoke, the meaning still Avas strange ; 

An unknown tongue to me, a man unlearned 
In things so deep, so dark, the widest range 

Of human thought has but a taper burned 
T' enable man to see. 

Where lately I beheld a sturdy oak, 

Or rosebud nodding in the twilight air. 
Now I perceive that forms some meaning cloak : 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 1 9 

In one I see resolve, in one a prayer ; 
And the winds talk to me. 

O purblind wretch ! how much I've groping passed : 
How much of beauty have my wayward feet 

Trampled upon ; what foolish slights I've cast 
On what my awakened slight deems pure and sweet; 
And now my thoughts are free 

To view the past, and see beyond the veil 

That hung before mine eyes while yet I deemed 

Life precious. How little now avail 

Those valued joys. Alas ! they only seemed. 
Now, Lord I turn to Thee. 

Thy glories call my willing spirit up , 

Thy love, that ope'd my eyes to Heaven's light, 
Bids me dash down the wine of pleasure's cup, 

To taste with Thee eternal, pure delight 
Short may my waiting be. 



20 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE LAST NIGHT AT HOME. 

Round the room the lamplight floating, 
Folds within its soft embrace 

Many dear familiar objects, 
Many a dear familiar face. 

And I hear the children's voices, 
Laughing out in gay delight ; 

All around is love and comfort, 
Yet I'm very sad to-night. 

For the hours fly far too quickly, 
And the night will soon be gone ; 

I must leave upon the morrow, 
Ere the shadows leave the lawn. 

And the strength of bitter feeling 
More than words can ever tell, 

Spends itself in wistful gazing 
On the forms I love so well. 



BRIEFS B Y A BARRISTER. 

Love still dearer now than ever, 
For the knowledge we must part, 

(Blessings brighten as they're flying) 
Will be felt while beats a heart. 

Oh, thou future ! dim and gloomy, 
With thy whisperings of fate, 

Heard by us, thy airy voices 
Ever syllable "too late." 

Aye, for love and youth's sweet dreaming, 
Peace, and friendship's bounteous store 

And for all, save death and sorrow, 
! Tis too late — forevermore. 

There are words that are half spoken, 
There are tender eyes that fill, 

Good-night kisses, — all are vanished, 
And the night is dark and still. 

Oh ! how many a noble impulse 
Throbs its way into the light, 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Gathers half its power and purpose 
From the silence of the night. 

And I felt high aspirations, 
That will last where'er I roam, 

Kindled 'mid the mournful silence 
Of my last sad night at home. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



MY KATE. 

In the splendor of satin or silk, 

With a train a yard or so long, 
With diamonds that glimmer and gleam 

With hair — not a wave of it wrong. 

In short, when my Kate marches forth 

To an opera, dinner or ball, 
For her match should you search through the throm 

You would turn up your nose at them all. 

For there's such an ineffable grace, 

Such a ye ne sais quoi, in her air, 
That amid an assemblage of queens 

You'd avow her the queenliest there. 

But nearer and dearer than this 

Is a style that the world never sees, 
She only assumes it for one, 

And that one it's certain to please. 



24 BRIEFS B Y A BARRISTER. 

'Tis a costume of loveliest white. 

Set off by slippers of blue, 
That peer from her robe with a mite 

Of a foot quite entrancing to view. 

To be sure her hair is awry, 

But its meshes, they tangle my heart, 
And the curve and the snow of her neck 

Are more than the touches of art. 

The diamonds that glance in her eyes 
Are more than the jewels she wore, 

And her air, and her regal disguise — 
I vote them a horrible bore. 

Should you ask when I love her the most 
My answer were speedily said, — 

'Tis just as she smiles on me now 
'Tis just before going to bed. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 25 



THE MIDNIGHT CHIME, JAN 1. 

In cold and darkness, and alone, 
The year is dead ; the mingled tone 
Of joy and sorrow from the bells, 
Woven of welcomes and farewells, 
Sounds on the night. 

Those bells have rung for many a year, 
And as their changeful notes I hear, 
I catch an echo from the past, 
I hear the future years forecast, 
Both bloom and blight. 

Their tone is joyful as they tell 
How bound in wedlock's mystic spell 
Two hearts were joined for weal and woe 
Roses and thorns together grow, 
But sweet the chime. 



26 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

They tell of beauty and of youth, 
Of ardent hope and glorious truth, 
Of laughter, music, and the joy 
That filled each heart, without alloy, 
Oh halcyon time ! 

Then sad their tone — for there below 
Lay one who died in health's fresh glow. 
And the bells mourn for every tear 
That fell upon that flower-decked bier, 
And seem to sigh. 

They mourn for sickness and for pain, 
They plead against man's cold disdain 
Of poverty ; they clang — for crime 
Has heard the sounding of their chime 
With undimmed eye. 

Dear chimes, we hear again, with thee, 
Voices that now are still, and see 
Faces that earth shall know no more. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 2 J 

And treasures gleaned from memory's store 
That last for aye. 

With the old year the sadness flies, 
The sweet and joyous notes arise 
To welcome in a year of peace, 
Of happiness and fair increase, 
Hope rules alone. 



The seed must die for flowers to blow ; 
The starlight fades for morn to glow ; 
The old year dies, but in his place 
The new year steps with youthful grace 
Upon his throne. 

We will not shade that sunny brow 
With wreath of gloomy cypress now ; 
But deck him with a mantle bright, 
And crown with rays of earliest light, 
And hail his rei°;n. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Ring out, sweet chimes ; the reign of woe 
Is ended— blessed the overthrow ! 
Tell to the clamorous bells that sound 
In echoing joy the country round, 

Peace smiles again. 
Slowly melting on the ear 
Sinks the cadence, sweet and clear, 
Till the distance gently flings 
Soft enchantment on the wings 
Of the night-winds as they bear 
Fainter murmurs on the air. 
But as kind and gentle sleep 
'Gins my drowsy eyes to steep, 
Angel music rising seems, 
Such as heard within our dreams. 
On this house and home, O God ! 
Let Thy mercy be outpoured ; 
Keep our bodies, Power Divine, 
Save our souls— for both are Thine : 
Grant that we next year may be 
Nearer just one step to Thee. 



BRIBFS BY A BARRISTER. 29 



"AFTER." 

The dance is ended, the music is still, 

And the merry laughter is o'er ; 
The moonlight is gilding the wood and the hill 

It was ne'er so bewitching before. 

Over the young and the happy who sleep, 
The dream-god is weaving his spell, 

While, waking, I gaze on the starry deep, 
And hear what the night-breezes tell. 

The story they breathe is old, I well know, 

Yet now each time it is told, 
Of a meeting, a waltz, of whisperings low, 

Of moments more precious than gold. 

Of a homeward walk 'neath the harvest moon, 

A block or so out of the way, 
Of farewell's ended, alas ! too soon, 

By propriety's infamous sway. 



30 BRIEFS B Y A BARRISTER. 

'Tis such a night when the brownies love 
To dance with the mischievous fays, 

And they wove a spell around, above, 
As they wheeled in an airy maze. 

But the fairies stopped in their blithesome round, 

The little ones stopped their play, 
To see how sadly I turned to gaze, 

How slowly I strolled away. 

And so I'm alone building castles fair, 
In the clouds that our floating above ; 

For the drowsy god I've never a care, 
He flies at the bidding of love. 

But body must rest, though spirit may soar 

In the cloudland realms o'erhead. 
If I see her off on the early train 

I'd better be off to bed. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 3 I 



DRIFTING. 

Why should I sow this seed ? 

To-morrow I may die, then what avail 
Vain hope or selfish greed ? 

Dull, dreamless heads care not though harvests 
fail. 

Why should I toil and strive 

Beneath the hot beams of the angry sun, 
If, though my garden thrive, 

I may not taste the pleasure I have won ? 

Let me dream on my dream, 

In peaceful langour let my limbs repose ; 
'Tis hard to breast the stream, 

But sweet to glide adown it as it flows. 

O sweet, thrice sweet to see 

The dark green branches bow above the tide. 



32 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

And hear sweet melody 

Breathed in my ears as onward still I glide : 

To gaze upon the sky, 

All flecked with white clouds drifting to the West, 
Till through a loving eye 

My fancy sees the islands of the blest. 

Dull care is left behind, 

Sweet peace consoles for tumults that are past ; 
And thornless flowers now bind 

My pillowed head — why do they fade so fast ? 

Is there in dreamland aught 

That fades and withers like the things of earth ? 
Can death e'er conquer thought ? 

Then were my spirit-kingdom little worth. 

Earth's servants travel slow ; 

Now, at the faintest beckoning of my will. 
The sky is all aglow 

With bright-winged slaves, who every wish fulfil. 



BRIEFS B Y A BA RRIS TER. 3 3 

Here let me ever live, 

Here in the air-built castles of my brain ; 
Such joys earth ne'er can give, 
Earth has no spells like these to banish pain. 

But hark ! I hear a sound 

As if of many waters, in mine ear ; 
Dread echoes swell around, 

Again my soul awakens unto fear. 

Where are the emerald shores ? 

Alas ! far faded from my longing sight : 
A veiling mist upsoars 

And shuts me in with horror and with night. 

The torrent bears me on, 

Powerless to reach the far, the lovely shore ! 
Forms, spectre-like and wan, 

Rise in my way. O ! had I waked before ! 

And must I wake to die ? 

Is peace an enemy sent to betray 



34 BRIEFS B Y A BARRISTER. 

The king of earth and sky ? 

And can my reign endure but one short day ? 

Hopeless ! Is this the end 

Of drifting tranquility adown the tide ! 
There, where the waters blend, 

Eternity doth there from time divide. 

Too late ! ah, never more 

To tread the paths I loved, ere lying fate 
Lured from the gentle shore 

To idle dreaming ; for 'tis late, too late. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE CAIQUE. 
A thing as light and free as air 
See dancing on the water there — 
A fairy craft of hues as gay 
As grace the Naiads' holiday — 
With graceful curve the pointed bow 
Shivers the liquid crystal now 
To feathery spray — now dances high 
As if it lacked but wings to fly, — 
A bubble glancing on the tide, 
The ocean's newest, loveliest bride 
That scarcely needs the bending oar 
To speed it to the curving shore. 

Still there in garb with rainbow dyes 
The stalwart Greek his swift oar plies, 
And boat and man advancing seem 
As mirrored in the sparkling stream 
The airy fancies of a dream. 



36 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

With such a boat on such a sea, 
Around — such glorious scenery,— 
What sweeter than to float along 
And let the winds' teolian song 
Soft measures breathe above the wave, 
While deep in many an ocean's cave 
From mermaids' harps there gently creep 
The songs that murmur o'er the deep 
And soothe the soul to peaceful sleep. 

There would I with my love recline, 
And pledging to our love divine 
In brimming cups of ruby wine, 
I'd lull her soul to ease and rest, 
Until, with love and wine opprest 
She pillowed lay upon my breast. 

Thus idly floating on for aye, 
Beneath the tranquil azure sky, 
We'd turn each sand of time to gold 
And find with each a joy inrolled. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. IJ 

No thought but love, no love but one 
From blush of morn to set of sun. 

We'd scorn the dead — their bones are cold, — 
Laugh at the future, — 'tis untold 
But linger in the present's bliss, 
And be eternal in a kiss. 



38 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER 



ALBUM VERSES. 
Far o'er the world I've sought for fleeting pleasure, 

'Mid scenes most varied and 'mid people strange 
And hope hath promised many a golden treasure 

And passion led me o'er wild paths to range. 

But phantom-like the charm has e'er eluded 
My outstretched arms — I will no longer roam 

And my tired heart no more to be deluded 
Seeks holy calm in a New. England home. 



For stranger's eyes I simply write my name, 
It's place within your book its only fame, 
If what I Avrote would meet your eyes alone 
What I would write — ah ! that I dare not own. 



I'll not attempt such compliments to pass 
As I beheld within your book of late, 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

It is enough to say — gaze in your glass, 
Mindful meantime of fair Narcissus' fate. 



In asking me to write herein 

My humble name, you pay to me 

A sweet and graceful compliment 

That with your grace doth well agree. 

But by my faith, I'm not amazed 

That charming compliments you pay, 

So many you receive yourself, 

It is not strange you've learned the way. 



Lady I grieve the hour of parting nears, 

Strangers we met on yester, friends we part — 

The growth of friendship is not marked by years 
But by the warm impulses of the heart. 



4-0 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER 



L'ENVOY. 

To pay a clerk 
For pleasant work 

Would surely be a folly, 
But rather he 
Should pay a fee 

For sinecure so jolly. 

And so I send 

To you fair friend 
A bunch of flowers gay, 

Please put amount 

To the account 
Of debts I cannot pay. 

These roses bright 
Were once pure white, 
Yet what to them I said, 
Made color rush 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

With mantling blush, 
And now you see they're red. 

Just put the tips 

Of their red lips 
Up to your listening ear, 

Perhaps they'll tell 

A message well 
I fain would have you hear. 



42 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE LAW AND THE LADY. 

Marriage at best is but a lottery 
And we, according to the chance we draw, 
Regard with smiles or frowns the ties that bind us 
And curse or bless the lady and the law. 



HONEST LAWYERS. 

To prove that lawyers honest are 
In vain alas you try 
While truth may be within their words 
Their actions always lie. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 43 



JUST AS YOU ARE. 

As I stop amid my plodding, 

Gazing down youth's joyous track, 

Could I catch old Tempus nodding, 
I would turn his dial back. 

When ambition is my master, 
Hope of future fame elates, 

And I'd make Time's sands run faster, 
Bearing on where glory waits. 

But when to the dulcet viol 

You dance sparkling like a star, 

Then I'd like to smash Time's dial 
Just to keep you as you are. 



44 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



"A ROSE YOU GAVE." 

After Ben. Jonson. 

Lady to me a rose you gave 

Red as those lips of thine, 
With such resemblance 'tis not strange 

I've pressed it oft to mine. 

Soft is the rose leaf, but thy cheek, 

Is softer and more fair 
And love and peace and winning mirth 

Lurk in the dimples there. 

Some say they catch within a rose 
A glimpse of Heaven's skies 

I'm not the only one who sees 
A Heaven in thine eyes. 

Ah, laughing eyes that can grow sad 
Now gay and now how meek 

Your language sweeter far than words 
How can I gaze and speak. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 45 

Thou know'st not, lady, what a world 

In little things I see 
If only 't is thy hand bestows 

A little gift on me. 

To thee this rose is but a flower 

That withers in a day ; 
To me a fragrant memory 

And that will last for aye. 



46 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE PORTE BONHEUR. 

Go, little plaything, to her snowy wrist, 
And round it hang, and clasp it joyously, 

She will not chide thy silvery laugh, I wist, 
It chimes and echoes hers so truthfully. 

Sport, little circlet, with her dimpled hand. 
And when she dreams, oh press it tenderly, 

And strive to make my lady understand 

They are not dumb whose lips move silently. 

Tell her that deepest thoughts can never find 
The garb of words ; and they play doubtingly 

Who, losing, must lose all, and be resigned 
To travel ever 'neath a shadow, wearily. 

Ring, pretty bells that grace this amulet, 
Warning from danger, or to joy inviting ; 

And when the shadows crowd, and sun is set, 
Chime, sweetly chime, her dreaming thoughts de- 
lighting. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 47 

And, porte bonheur, what e'er thy queen may do, 
Do not belie thy name — and happily 

Thou may'st instruct me by what means to woo 
A smile from her whose smile is melody. 



48 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



YESTERDAY, TO-DAY, AND FOREVER. 

But yesterday 't was summer, and the sky 

Was clear, and love was wafted on the air ; 
Youth smiled on joy, hope sparkled in my eye, 
And life seemed fair. 

To-day 't is winter, and the clouds drop rain, 
Winds rave, my heart is filled with fear and hate. 
Age frowns on joy, hope flies from tearful pain : 
Death, thou art late. 

Forever thus on Time's remorseless tide 

Must we drift onward, 'till our sorrows given 
Curse us with bitterness or gently guide 
Our souls to heaven. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE COMING OF THE FROST. 

" Bring out your dead ! " That was the only sound 
That broke the silence of the Sunday morn. 
"Bring out your dead," the wagons make their 

round — 
And to their hasty tombs the dead are borne. 

The air was warm that sad October day 
And to the sun the blushing peach-trees gave 
A springtide welcome, nature's mask was gay, 
But every lovely blossom marked a grave.* 

Long had the fever raged within our town, 
And hope was weary, and the hand of God, 
Seen in the pestilence, struck households down, 
And oh 't was hard to bless the cruel rod. 



* " The weather has been warm and springlike so long that 
the peach trees are in bloom." — Dispatch from New Orleans. 



50 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

The grass sprung up within the busy mart, 
And rank weeds grew, while in the tainted air 
Swarms of strange buzzing insects float and dart 
And die in myriads — death is everywhere. 

" God send a frost," we cried. " God send a frost, 
Lest we all perish ; " but our sobbing prayer 
Upon the stifling autumn breeze was lost 
And a perpetual knell rang through the air. 

By Edith's bed we sat, Dinah and I, 
Dinah the faithful nurse and I still weak 
With grief and fever, caring but to die 
If I could no more hear my Edith speak. 

For death had drawn his clouds across my sky 

And Edith was the only star that shone 

To light my life, a very Rachel I, 

A widowed Rachel, lonely, faint and wan. 

No sound was heard within the quiet room 
Save the clocks ticking or the uneasy call 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 5 I 

Of our sick darling, and the evening's gloom 
Curtained the sultry landscape like a pall. 

And then I fell asleep within my chair 
And thought it was a dream, a horrid dream 
This deadly scourge, yet somehow did not dare 
To ope my eyes and prove it did but seem. 

At last I woke and felt so icy cold, 

I thought the fever's clutches on me still 

And shuddered, thinking that my hours were told — 

And yet it seemed the air was strangely chill. 

'T was early dawn and Dinah, wearied, slept ; 

Where Edith lay, a lily pale and weak, 

A tiny sunbeam rested, it had crept 

Through the closed lattice and it kissed her cheek. 

In the dim room it seemed a heavenly guest, 
First of a throng whose radiant forms outside, 
Pressed close to enter on some holy quest. 
And so I stole and threw the lattice wide. 



5 2 BRIEFS BY A BA RRIS TER. 

And oh what glory met my joyful sight — 
The landscape covered with a silver sheen 
Glowed splendidly in morning's rosy light, 
And diamonds flashed amid the bushes green. 

" Awake ! " I cried, " for God hath sent the frost, 
The blessed frost, to save us all from death ; 
Awake, good Dinah, Edith is not lost, 
Hope has come back in autumn's frosty breath." 

And on our knees we fell beside her bed, 
Sobbing with joy in happy thankful prayer, 
Until she woke — and a faint glow had spread 
Upon a face that smiled away our care. 

Fast through the town the joyful tidings spread, 
And bells were rung, and happy greetings waved, 
And heavy hearts forgot to mourn their dead, 
Rejoicing with the living who were saved. 

And while I live the coming of the frost 
Will mark a day by sorrow undefined, 
A friend in need when friends were needed most- 
It stopped the pestilence and saved my child. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 5 3 



ALTERNATIVES. 

You who can read the cipher that the past 

Has wrought upon the future's misty veil, 
Can know how long will smiling pleasure last, 

And how long sorrow press with grasp of mail, 
If dream you can, dream on, a sombre thread 

Of reason woven in your visions fair, 
But if by fickle fancy you are led, 

Soon will your hopes melt into viewless air. 

You who can look within a woman's heart, 

Can solve that Sphin::'s riddle graven there — 
Perceive each cunning and deceptive art, 

Love on, ' twere vain to say to you, beware ! 
But if you bow to beauty's power alone, 

Dazed by the sparkling of a hazel eye, 
Too late you find, with passion's witchery flown, 

A serpent's hiss is hid within a sigh. 



54 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Let him laugh on who lives but for to-day, 

Whom folly leads amid her thoughtless throng, 
A nerveless mass of cold and sluggish clay, 

Not moved by beauty nor aroused by wrong ; 
None else can laugh, but hears within the sound 

A tone of bitter sorrow, of farewell, 
A death-note to the happiness around 

Recalling him to griefs he knows too well. 

Let him quaff on, who longs and prays to die, 

Whose peace and hope and love are buried all 
Who thinks all life a hollow mockery, 

A gloomy land where mournful shadows fall. 
Or let him find when, from the festal cup 

Youth's fair enchantment 's gone, the draught 
grows flat, 
And see within the goblet mirrored up, 

A leering spectre that he trembles at. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 5 5 



LOST. 

Weary I rise from off my sorrow's couch, 

And gaze upon the shadows as they grow 

And lengthening blend, and see the twilight shroud 

The earth as sadness has my loving heart. 

She has not come, although the stars have marched 

In solemn majesty across the sky, 

And birds have hailed the glory of the dawn 

Since she departed. Oh that thoughtless word, 

Spoken in anger, born of jealousy, 

Regretted ere the portals of my lips it left, 

But now a bitterness eternally, 

I can recall it never, nevermore. 

One word, "depart" has driven from my home 

The only thing that made a home for me, 

And desolation takes its drear abode 

Beside the hearth whereon the fire hath died. 

Last night I sleepless tossed, and would have prayed 

Had I not feared that God would deem my prayers 



56 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

As self-inflicted curses, — so I moaned 

And wished for day, and when the morning fell 

Upon the pillow where she used to lie, 

Then did I curse the day that made me see 

I was alone, and e'en forbade my soul 

The respite of a fancy or a dream 

That she was by my side. I shut my eyes 

And as I sit in her accustomed place 

Lost deep in musings, I could swear I heard 

The merry music of her pattering feet, — 

But when I turn, silence resumes its reign, 

And the dead weight again falls on my heart. 

" Oh, little one," I cry, " my eyes are wet 

With love that dares not hope for love again, 

Oh my soul's darling " could you see these cheeks 

Grown pale and cold while watching your return. 

Could I but speak an instant, sure your heart 

Would deem one word by far too small a thing 

To blight a home, and sever loving hearts." 

But oh ! I fear to all things of earth 

Your ears are deaf forever ; and remorse 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. S7 

Hears in each breath of air that moves the trees 

A sobbing miserere or a sigh. 

So if my watching is of no avail, 

If steeped in sorrow all my life must be, 

If gall must be my spirits only food, 

And heart to heart I never may enfold 

Her who was food and drink unto my soul, 

If day and night must follow day and night 

In monotone unending till the day 

When I must hide my sorrows in the tomb 

And lay me down to rest from pain at last. — 

Oh God, if I must wait and bear the woe 

So long, oh heaven, grant my sole request 

The only one these impious lips will make, — 

Let it not be forever. Though the worm 

Destroy our bodies, let the despairing cry 

Of thy poor creature, reach thy pitying ear, 

And if it may be, let her spirit know 

Within that dim and distant land, my heart 

Has only throbbed in unison with hers. 

Heaven without her were to me a hell, 



5& BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

And even hell with her to me a heaven. 
And if thy mercy and thy justice live 
Let not man's frailty and his folly blast 
Eternally, a soul that thou hast made. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



THE FOUNTAIN OF FIJEH. 

[Not far from Damascus the river Abana springs from the hill-side by 
a ruined templo of the wood-god Pan. The beauty of the stream 
and the sad solemnity of the old Roman temple by its side suggested 
the following lines.] 

The waters gush with sudden rush 

From out a cavern sounding, 
And on its course like untamed horse, 

A crystal stream is bounding. 

And soon in play, with silvery spray, 
And foam that wreathes and whitens, 

Where sunbeams gleam adown the stream, 
Abana's water brightens. 

Beside the flood there long has stood 

A ruin strange and hoary, 
And by its door the waters pour 

And whisper of its story. 

How long ago the rivers' flow 
Swept underneath the portal, 



60 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

And o'er the porch the sacred torch 
Burned with its fire immortal, 

No tablets tell, but all know well 

That solemn pomp attended 
The fasti, while the massive pile 

Upreared its columns splendid. 

By moonlight pale in haunted dale 
The nymphs are heard complaining, 

Their glories flown, their shrine o'erthrown, 
A chaos sad remaining ; 

With ruined walls on which there falls 

A sunlight rich and golden, 
And shadows deep from which there creep 

Dim memories, strange and olden. 

Thy temple, Pan, the work of man. 

Hath crumbled 'neath Time's fingers, 
And in this hour, of all thy power, 

A fading memory lingers. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 6 1 

Yet by the door the waters pour 

Among the shadows dancing, 
Still fresh and clear from year to year 

Beneath the sunbeam's glancing. 

Within man's mind, methinks I find 

A likeness to the fountain, 
And in his frame I see the same 

Strange temple by the mountain. 

Though firm and grand man's work may stand, 

Ere long it must have crumbled 
To dust away, and human clay 

To dust must too be humbled. 

But from the hill the fountain still 

As now will flow forever, 
And to its goal the eternal soul 

Sweeps on — as flows the river. 



62 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



KING CARNIVAL. 

Now the days are clear and bright 
And the stars begem the night ; 
Ere that sable Lent be come, 
Ere the lips of joy are dumb, 
Meet it is that one and all 
Homage pay King Carnival. 

Born three thousand years ago, 
Rome beheld his glories grow, 
Pagan Saturn's favorite child, 
Nature joyous, temper mild, 
Pagans turned to Christians, fall 
At the feet of Carnival. 

He is such a merry King, 
And his happiness doth fling 
On his court all glittering bright 
Endless radiance of delight, 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 63 

And he firm will hold his seat 
Long as human hearts shall beat. 

Carnival reigns in disguise ; 

E'en the color of his eyes 

Change and change, and fresh surprise 

Sees each new illusion rise. 

Now he's short and now he's tall, 

Now a devil, now a priest, 
Golden locks or white hairs fall 

O'er a grave or at a feast. 

Striped dress of harlequin, 

Suit grotesque of pantaloon, 
Squeeze if stout and stuff if thin, 

Not to be discovered soon, 
On mystery doth gladly fall 
The laughing eyes of Carnival. 

Brothers for the shadow striving, 
Take the substance and be gay, 

Gloomy lives are not worth living 
Do not cloud life's little day ; 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Doff toil's stiff and sombre pall, 
Don court dress for Carnival. 

Smooth the wrinkles from your faces, 
Dry, of grief those lingering traces ; 
Turn time's dial gently back, 
Wayward roam on childhood's track : 
Let the voice of pleasure call 
Joyous throngs to Carnival. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 65 



THE BLIGHTED FLOWER. 

There grew in my garden a flower, 

In the days long ago, 
And bathed in the sunshine and shower. 

My heart saw it grow. 

I guarded and watched it with care 
And prayed in the night, 

That it should be charming and fair 
Till the coming of light. 

I laughed at the storm and the wind 

So it was the same 
Its tendrils more dear to my mind 

Than the voices of fame. 

For all my existence was wrapped 

In that delicate flower, 
By its side, in happiness lapped, 

I sat hour after hour. 



66 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

The birds sang their sweetest of lays, 
And tc it in the gloom 

The voice of the wind seemed in praise 
Of its wondrous perfume. 

In the garland Sandalphon doth bear 
Of prayers into Heaven, 

To none of the flowers, even there 
Such beauty is given. 

I mingled my breath with its breath,' 

Its life was my all, 
I thought not the footsteps of death 

Could e'er on it fall. 

But unguarded I left it by night, 

When the Autumn was mild, 

And the chill frost came in its might, 
And it murdered my child. 

And the glory I worshipped was gone, 
All faded the leaves — 

And the flower in my garden was wan 
As the pale Autumn sheaves. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 57 



THE MASQUERADE. 

I stood amid a throng 

Of dames and gallants proudly dressed, 
And there was light and song, 

And joy was brimming in each breast ; 
Time bound his hour-glass with a wreath of flowers, 
Whose opening beauties marked alone the hours. 

Ah, there were starry eyes 

To light the soul to heaven or hell, 
And lips whose crimson dyes 
The eager soul of passion tell ; 
And there were rounded arms, and necks of snow 
And cheeks soft mantling with youth's rosy glow. 

It was a goodly sight 

But fairer still it was to be, 
For soon upon the night 

Poured forth such melody 



68 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

That its sweet flowing torrent whelmed the soul, 
And love and pleasure seemed life's only goal. 

And through the gorgeous hall 

The gay dance spirit 'gan to move 
Kindling the hearts of all, 

Teaching the willing feet to rove. 
Till all is motion, all is brimming life 
Where grace and beauty meet in charming strife. 

And oh that music's swell 

Sadder than angel choirs, may give, 
Sweeter than mortal lips can tell 

Grander than hearts may feel and live — 
'T was bitter sweet, uniting hopes and fears, 
And when we laughed, our cheeks were wet with 
tears. 

But as I gazed around 

Dazed by the splendor of the sight, 
And felt my pulses bound 

And followed fancy's daring flight, 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 69 

Lo and behold the scales fell from my eyes, 

The scene was changed — I stood in dumb surprise 



Where is thy beauty now 

Oh maiden with the sunny hair ? 
Upon thy marble brow — 

The tomb has set its signet there, 
Where lately danced the laughter-loving eyes 
I see a loathsome cave where dread corruption lies. 

Think'st thou a rose in bloom 

Nods o'er thy graceful, pretty head ? 
A flower that loves the tomb, 

It is the night-shade, bloody red ; 
Why of thy silken dress art thou so proud, 
Art thou quite sure thou wearest not a shroud ? 

Oh snowy heaving breast 

That bearest hopes as ocean ships 

And storms in mad unrest 

With lovers' warmly meeting lips 



70 BRIEFS B Y A BARRISTER. 

Sink, sink thy hopes, thy love will follow fast, 
And time will hide thee in his sands at last. 

The burning sighs of love 

And warmer kisses do consume 
In kindling, hearts that move 

With warming glory through life's mournfi 
gloom 
Like burning vessels on their watery tomb 
Their brighter splendor is more certain doom. 

The rounded limbs of youth 

The glorious forms that wooed the eye 
The cruel hand of truth 

Hath stripped them of their majesty — 
What substance does thy clearer judgment own 
A little tissue, and a little bone. 

Lustre of golden hair — 

'T will rust that now so brightly gleams 
Rose blent with lily fair 

They fly more fast than hopeful dreams ; 



BRIEFS .B Y A BARRISTER. "] I 

The buoyant step that lightly skims the floor 
'T will falter soon — too soon be heard no more. 

It is a masquerade 

Where Grief and Woe I plainly see 
Acting 'mid lights that fade, 
With hollow laugh a mockery 
Of joy and glittering prosperity, 
While scalding tears down trickle silently. 

Oh yes, a masquerade 

Where Falsehood bears the garb of Truth 
Vice trips it as a maid 

Age wears the garb of hopeful Youth, 
And dire Disease scarce hides its loathsome dress, 
Under the cloak of healthful loveliness. 

The form of Power I saw 

Towering above the throng, and blood 
Spotted his dress, and Law 

Cowered trembling behind him as he strode ; 
But 'mid his train did Treason play a part 
And crouched with dagger pointed at his heart. 



72 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

And they did hold as real 

The beauty, happiness and light, 
Nor saw the slow hours steal 

From ebbing life some dear delight 
But led by hope they ever turned their eyes, 
Dim with vain watching, to the future skies. 

And as I saw all this 

And mocked in keen satiric vein 
The farce that pleasure is, — 
I stood before a mirror free from stain, 
Wherein I saw what did my soul appall 
That reason's farce was bitterer than all. 

Trembling I turned my eyes 

To where, above the eddying throng 
Aloft I saw arise 

The throne of music and of song 
Thence came the sounds whose maddening cadence 

fell 
O'er human heart-strings — a compelling spell. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

There played a spectre host 

Come from the grave to mock at life 
And lead the soul till lost 

In wildering maze of music's strife. 
And all the ample front of genius wore, 
And one sad soul that was a friend before. 

And he whose guiding wand 

Held in such full and rich accord 
That vast melodious band 

Lo he was Death ! the awful lord 
Of joy and sorrow, from whose icy breast 
Well the full fountains of our life's unrest. 

Death led the orchestra 

And as he watched the thoughtless throng 
He hoarsely laughed ha ! ha ! 

" Ha ! ha ! " quoth he, " 't is not for long 
These puppets mock me with their feeble breath 
E'en now they follow in the dance of Death." 

Then hushed the music's swell 

Then ceased the eager, joyous dance 



74 BRIEFS B Y A BARRISTER. 

O'er all dread silence fell, 

And dying lights forgot to glance 
Then my soul shuddered at the gathering gloom, 
And knew at last the palace was a tomb. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 75 



MORNING TWILIGHT. 

Before earth's fettered beauties are released 
From thrall of darkness, ?nd of veiling mist, 

Ere the red glow is kindled in the East, 
And the far hill-tops by the sun are kissed, 

I oftimes gaze upon the chilling void 

Of pulseless nature, and my heart grows cold. 

And hope and love within me seem alloyed 
By more of fear and doubt than could be told. 

So when Aurora tints each snowy cloud 

To herald Phoebus in his robes of light, 
And to the west the hurrying shadows crowd, 
And nature lifts her cloud, oh goodly sight, 

Then fly the shadows from my gladening heart, 
Then breaks hope's sunshine on my eager eyes, 

Oh then my doubts and cruel fears depart, 

The sun of love hath dawned within my skies. 



76 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

For nature now commands me mourn with her 
Till the horizon turns for red from grey. 

And the glad lark within his nest astir 

Joins with my heart to welcome in the day. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 77 



DRINKING SONG. 

Come raise your goblets boys, and pledge 

A health to all the fair, 
But let each see within the cup 

His loved one pictured there ; 
The mantling glow upon her cheek, 

The sparkle of her eyes, 
Her ruby lips whose touch would tempt 

A saint from Paradise. 

Again fill up, life was not made 

For sorrow or for tears ; 
Away with care, drown out with wine 

These base foreboding fears. 
To-morrow comes — aye, let it come, 

A year were not too long 
Tc spend in such good company 

With mirth and wine and song. 



78 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

We're gods, my boys, the wreath that binds 

The hero's lofty brow, 
Bears not one half the matchless light 

That circles round us now : 
We're gods, each drop that flows to-night 

From Bacchus' veins shall be 
An earnest of our power divine 

Our immortality. 

Then let us laugh at grim old death 

And all his ghostly crew — 
By Jove, 'twould warm their dry old bones 

Could they but taste our brew ; 
Then fill once more and though we know 

Enough's enough for some, 
We jolly gods will drink to drown 

The thirst that is to come. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 79 



" REST MY BABY QUEEN." 

Rest my baby queen and slumber, 
Thou hast reigned too long to-day, 
Sleep in peace, o'er realms of dreamland 
And the fairies hold thy sway, 
While the golden locks that crown thee 
O'er thy temples gently play. 

How the dim light gently stealing 
Through the curtains overhead, 
Throws a hundred wav'ring shadows 
On thy soft and snowy bed, 
May thy spirit, oh my darling, 
Have no darker ones to dread. 

Rest my baby queen, thy mother 
Watches fondly o'er thy sleep, 
In her heart for thee are swelling 
Hopes and fears for words too deep, 



SO BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Oh ! there's none within the future 
Will such loving vigil keep. 

May the angels guard and keep thee 
Through the watches of the night, 
May thy Saviour through life's darkness 
Guide thy trembling footsteps right, 
Till thou rule with Him forever 
Where the skies are always bright. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 8 1 



WHEN SHE IS GAY. 

When she is gay, her laughing eyes 
And dimpled rosy cheek, 
And curving lips and cunning ways 
Might make a statue speak ; 
When she is gay, I love her more 
By far I think, than e'er before. 

When she is sad, her downcast eyes — 

The tears that gently creep, 

Like pearls adown her velvet cheek 

Would make an angel weep , 

I love her more when on my breast 

She lays her head to be caressed. 

But when her eyes are closed in sleep, 
Whose dewy tenderness 
Softens her face, until it wears 
A wond'rous loveliness. 



82 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Then waking beauties all depart 
For then I hold her to my heart, 
Though sad or joyful dreams befall 
Ah then, I love her most of all. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 83 



FOUNTAINS ABBEY. 

Thou mouldering pile whose solemn pillars lift 
Their graceful arches to the summer sky, 

Whose ivy draperies the soft winds shift 

And wreath and mantle round thee as they sigh — 

I love thee well, and as my head reclines 

Where strange deep shadows sleep upon the lawn, 

Upon thy ruined state my soul repines 
While musing sadly on thy glories gone. 

The sky is flecked with clouds whose fairy forms 
March past the frame that yawning arches make, 

In calm procession, and the sunlight warms 
The scene to life and flashes o'er the lake. 

All, all around is beautiful, but still 

I scarcely see the beauties of to-day, 
Nor hear the song birds warbling on the hill, 

Nor the brook chattering on its pebbly way. 



84 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

My heart is with the past, and to my eyes 
Fixed lovingly upon yon massive pile, 

A hundred visions from the past arise 
And fancy builds anew the roofless aisle, 

And hear those glorious mellow bells ring on 
That in the olden time called men to prayer, 

When the soft colors in the west grew wan 
And mist arose like incense on the air. 

From out yon lofty tower upon whose brow 
Hang crests of green, their harmony still wells, 

And time and ruin can scarce banish now 
The inspiration of those golden bells. 

But midnight hears them, so the peasants say, 
Ringing out sweetly on the charmed air, 

Swung by the hands of many a lovely fay, 

Who dwells and weaves a soft enchantment there. 

All that can speak unto a human heart — 
Of grief is there, and as the accents blend, 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 85 

From my sad eyes the charms of sense depart 
And dreams their potent necromancy lend. 



A long processional of priests in grey 
Files solemnly adown the battered aisle, 

I see their gleaming torches on the way 
Light up the fallen glories of the pile. 

A spectre host, with sorrow in their eyes, 
And at their head the abbot as of old, 

Marches majestic in his regal guise 
And mitre glistening with gems and gold. 

Silent, unmoved they march until they reach 
The desecrated altar, and they see 

That holy place where holy men did teach, 
Lain low to mix with earth's impurity. 

And then a horror fell on every face 

And a long shudder ran adown the line, 

While on each ghostly visage I could trace 
A bitterness I trust may ne'er be mine. 



86 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

And the grave abbot raised his hands on high 
As though imploring strength the wreck to scan, 

Then broke from silence as his sorrowing eye 
Fell on the ruin wrought by time and man. 

" Oh God, is this reform, is this the end 

For which so long they strove with word and. 
sword, 

Is this the homage that their hearts did lend. 
Is this their boasted worship of the Lord ? ' 

" These vague entablatures, these mossy stones, 
Once chiselled into beauty and to life, 

E'er in their silence speak in solemn tones 
Of ruthless fury and of causeless strive." 

" Is the world purer that our sacred rites 
Died at the bidding of a wicked king, 

Or is the hand benevolent, that blights 
And grasping avarice a sacred thing ! " 

" Where hospitality with pitying hand 
The weary wanderer to its bosom took, 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 87 

Where love with charity each failing scanned 

And warmed with kindness whom the world for- 
sook." 

'•' Now melancholy holds her gloomy sway 
O'er broken arch and desecrated shrine ; 

There all the day do broken shadows play 

And dreary winds mourn o'er the trailing vine. 

"Where learning shone and in religious light 
Found power to lift the darkness from mankind, 

Now whirr the wings of sombre birds of night 
And o'er the altar clambering vines are twined. 

" O holy church, thou Heaven-given light ! 

Is man still blind to thy inspiring ray — 
How long, oh God, before thy lightnings smite, 

How long before thy sword is raised to slay ! " 

And then arose a sad and solemn song 

Chanted in unison, and full of grief, 
As if each heart had borne its sorrow long, 

And in its utterance would find relief. 



88 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Now swelling high it sobbed its bitterness 
In notes complaining to the very sky, 

Then died away in plaintive whisperings, 
And sunk to silence in a half-heard sigh. 

Weak faltering words, how poorly they convey 
The wondrous harmony that wakes in sleep ; 

That thrills the heart and bids it hope and pray 
A.nd fills the soul with yearnings pure and deep. 

For in some dreams our spirits tread beneath 
Their winged feet the soul restraining clod, 

And catch an echo of the songs that rise 

In matchless sweetness round the throne of God. 

So seemed the song I heard, and when I woke 
Then not the less it seemed an angel song, 

And ne'er were silence's mystic spells ere broke 
By gentler counter-charms — in chorus long. 

The village choir of little children sang 
A simple hymn, but from those lips so pure 

It was angelic, and those dim aisles rang 
With sweeter, holier echoes, I am sure, 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 89 

Than they had known for many a lonely year ; 

Reconsecrate they seemed by that soft strain 
That bore so much to hallow and endear 

That I again to catch its notes \v0ui4 fain. 

And I baptized anew, felt all my pride 
And foolish questionings of God depart ; 

My rage at man's impiety subside, 

And holy calm came flooding o'er my heart. 

Systems arise before a wondering world 

And play their parts, and vanish, and decay 

Preys on their monuments, statues are hurled 
Down to the earth to mix with kindred clay. 

But naught is purposeless, they are not dumb, 
These mouldering ruins, but they have a voice 

Speaking from silence unto those who come 
To muse upon them, and it saith — ■" Rejoice, 

" To perish is to live once more, no death, 
There is but only change, like man we fall 

That we may give our praise with purer breath 
To Him who changeless watches over all." 



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FATE. 

On, can we steer our fragile bark across 

The stormy ocean, where the cruel rocks 

And treacherous sands, like hungry monsters wait 

The adventurous manner ? Nay, at the helm 

The inexorable past, with gathered power 

Of centuries maintains despotic sway ; 

And though we man the yards and trim the sails, 

Thinking poor atoms to direct our course — 

The truth remains, that we must still obey 

The things that have been, and the fate that is. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 9 1 



LYDIA. 

Suggested by one of Datidet's heroines. 

When Lydia assumes her regal mien, 

Who would not vow she looked the perfect queen ? 

And having bought a place amid her train, 

Who would not deem himself a happy swain ? 

Who would not swear on being half acquaint, 

That Lydia was little short of saint ; 

And who that gazed her liquid orbs within 

Would think such ports could harbor aught of sin ? 

But as a storm oft lurks in cloudless skies, 

She hides herself behind her glorious eyes : 

Thence sails she forth on every favoring breeze, 

The female pirate of domestic seas. 

A sylph in body, but a fiend in soul, 

With face that knows to play its proper role ; 

Sweet is her smile, till she has drawn one in 

The shining web the spider knows to spin. 



<)2 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

And when too late he stops to count the cost, 
Bankrupt of peace with hope and honor lost, 
She flings him from her with a scornful eye, 
And leaves him caught, to struggle and to die. 
With hand of satin, but with heart of stone, 
She finds a jest in every human moan 
Pretending sympathy, unmoved she hears 
Affliction's struggles — and she mocks at tears. 
Though in all walks of life her actions halt, 
She's prompt to criticise each venial fault ; 
Before her poisoned tongue who can remain, 
Free from the power of culumny to stain ; 
While like Satanas, when he sees a saint, 
By sore temptation gone beyond restraint, 
She smiles to think one character the less 
Remains to blame her cursed loveliness ; 
And in her silvery laugh that thrills the air, 
You hear the devils laughing at despair. 
Though jealous she, as if she really loved. 
Her hand to strangers lips is e'er ungloved. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 93 

To feed her vanity, without ado, 

She'd swear, dance, drink, or go a demi nice. 

She'd win you, wear you — if you were the fashion, 

(More women yield through vanity than passion.) 

Till when you cease to interest her more, 

Or sameness wearies ; " there, my friend 's the door." 

Alas, that gentle speech and maddening kiss, 

Should chime so nearly with the serpents hiss. 

Alas, fair one, that thy bewildering toils 

Should ever close and crush like serpents coils. 

As ignorant as folly with her bells, 

To every friend some little failing tells. 

And all unable of herself to rise, 

She laughs at those within whose eager eyes, 

Learning for learning, self appears a prize ; 

But judging all men by the guinea's clink, 

A diamonds gleam supplies the power to think. 

With naught but vanity or cruel dust, 

To spur to thought ; a creature of the dust ; 

With no ambition, save to basely reign, 

And no religion but a graceful train ; 



94 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

She goes through life, a shadow and a show, 
A mocking lure, the pride of imps below. 
Selfish and cruel, small of heart and mind, 
What could have brought this curse upon mankind 
Perchance kind Heaven wishing to reveal, 
How much of Hell a woman could conceal, 
Hath framed this Circe with an angel face, 
And winning ways to harbor all disgrace : 
To be a warning unto all our youth — 
A lie may live behind a face of truth ; 
And passion's cup may be with rosy lips, 
A life's damnation unto him who sips. 



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FLOWERS OF PALESTINE. 

Stern time has left upon the landscape's face, 

Of Israel's glory scarce a lingering trace ; 

The shining cities that crowned every hill, 

Lie in their ashes, and their voice is still ; 

The broken rampart and the crumbling tower 

Alone, attest the splendor and the power. 

Of Judah's Lion, and implore a tear 

For Palestine so wasted and so dear. 

Ah, sad her fallen state, an impious brood 

Of Turkish tyrants, blinded but to gain, 

Profane with impious hand the holy rood, 

And raze her glorious ruins to the plain. 

But nature guards these memories of eld 

And adds a charm to all this hallowed ground, 

Embalms each golden legend in the stone, 

And strews with lavish hand sweet flowers around. 

Where chilling winds mourn Shiloh's ruined state, 

Or whisper wierdly of Samaria's power, 



go BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Or whistle round the houses of the great, 
That now are ruins — there some charming flower, 
Smoothing the trace of time's destroying hand, 
Makes beautiful, what were too sadly grand. 
Oft'times an ancient bridge that spans a stream, 
Adown whose dancing tide the foam flakes gleam. 
Will bear fair flowers upon its crumbling sides, 
That press and cling round every chink and seam 
Till nature joins what cruel time divides. 

As, when from wasted forni, the last faint breath 
Has sped, and suffering is calm in death, 
Some gentle hand may smooth from off the brow 
The tangled ringlets, and may close those eves, 
That ne'er were opened save in love till now ; 
So nature's hand has brought her richest dyes, 
To smooth the furrows of these giant hills. 
To make the desert blossom like the rose, 
Till loving wonder all the spirit fills. 
And there is left no resting place for woes. 
Those hills of adamant, whose rocky crests 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 9/ 

Loom grey and barren 'gainst the azure sky, 

Where seen afar, a purple halo rests, 

With lighter tints that blend with blue on high ; 

Bear bright anemones, and the blooming plain 

So sweetly challenged blushes back again. 

There nods the daisy, and our spirits roam 

Across the ocean to our distant home, 

And thoughts of other days throng thick and fast, 

And sad regrets for pleasures that are past. 

The blue-eyed mary, speaks to every heart 

Of her most blessed of women here below, 

Whose face immortal with the touch of art, 

Speaks of divinest love and deepest woe. 

Bowing its graceful head upon the stem, 

Emblem of hope, the star of Bethlehem. 

Evokes the glorious story of that birth, 

That angels hailed with peace, good will on earth. 

A loving thought, a floral memory, 

Sweet star of Bethlehem thou seem'st to me, 

A score of other flowers with bloom as fair, 

Shed their sweet perfume on the gentle air. 



9b BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

A hundred inspirations start to life, 
Mid the bright mazes of this floral strife. 
But mock the soul with fancies too divine, 
To find a mirror in such words as mine. 

Emblems of life that flourish o'er decay, 
Your beauties herald still a brighter day. 
The man has seen. Though oft o'er Galilee, 
The crimson dawn hath spread its banners wide 
Among the clouds, and heavenly alchemy, 
Blent with the purple of the mountain side. 
Entrance the eye, and gleaming o'er the lake 
Command all slumbering nature to awake : 
A brighter dawning, a more glorious light 
Will beam on Galilee and all the earth, 
And the mute prophets of each rocky height, 
Dazzling like purest gems of wondrous worth. 
Will don such colors as man never sees, 
Save in the rainbow timings of the sky, 
In honor of their Christ, and on the breeze 
Will waft a fragrance that shall never die. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 99 

And with the beautiful of soul, the flowers 
Shall ever number, though their earthly form, 
Wither and fall mid eaith's decaying bowers, 
In bloom eternal they shall live, where comes no 
storm. 



IOO BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



COLLEGE POEMS. 



A VISION OF AUTUMN. 

Playfully the fresh wind rustles 

Through the tossing, gleaming leaves, 

Many a shimmering rift of sunlight 
Through the trees the grass receives. 

All the air seems palpitating, 
Quivering with hope and life, 

In the boughs the birds' sweet singing 
Blends, a maze, of charming strife. 

On the grass the lengthening shadows 
From the trees and houses fall, 

Silently they gloom and darken 
Till they blend and cover all 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

Only in the mellow distance 
Rises high a slender spire, 

That the setting sun has gilded 
With a touch of golden fire. 

Sadness gathers with the darkness, 
And the evening mists begin 

O'er the earth to wreathe and whiten, 
So I slowly turn within. 

Sadness fits the soul for dreaming, 
Phantoms, view my wondering eyes, 

From the darkness of my chamber 
Visions of the past arise. 

Sits a student by the table, 

In his bright and " morning face," 
Blend, the shades of grief dispelling, 

Laughing light and winning grace. 

In his eyes the love-light kindles 
As he reads a letter o'er, 



BRIEFS B Y A BARRISTER. 

Gently smiling, as he ends it — 
Only to begin once more. 

Soon he vanished, lo another 
Bodied forth before my gaze, 

'T is a student on whose forehead 
Shadows rest of mournful days. 

He is reading, too, a letter, 
And the bitter, scalding tear 

Tells the sad, the old, old story 
Of the grave, the pall, the bier : 

Now the world is bathed in splendor, 
Now, 't is shrouded all in gloom, 

Lights must gleam, and shadows darken 
Even in the student's room. 



BRIEFS B V A BARRISTER. 



DAY DREAMS. 

He. whom fond imagination 

Leadeth by her mystic hand 
Through the realms of the ideal, 

Through that strange and dreamy land, 

Ever clothes the world in beauty, 
Turns dark Winter into Spring, 

And mid all his airy castles 
Bid unceasing music ring. 

With him joy is ever present, 
And amid love's wild'ring maze 

Golden hours and crystal minutes 
Lead along his happy days. 

Brightly hope's prophetic pencil 

With celestial spirit fired, 
Paints upon the future's curtain 

All ambition has inspiied. 



104 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

And the sad reverberations 
Of each slowly tolling bell 

Sound like silver chimes that promise, 
For the future, all things well 

As the leaves of golden Autumn 
Are the fairest on the trees, 

When they wait but for the wooing 
Of the wind-harp's symphonies.- 

So when our day dreams are brightest 
And their bonds, so light to bear, 

Make us willing, loving captives, 
Soon they melt into the air. 

As the sun although departed 
Ever leaves some trace behind, 

In the fleecy clouds soft gilding, 
In the warm and balm)- wind ; 

So as memory doth lead us 

Down the dim aisles of the past, 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 105 

Wav'ring shadows of our day dreams 
On our time-worn path are cast. 

And each weird and changeful shadow 
Beckons with its ghost-like hand, 

Urges e'en in deathlike silence 
To the good, the true, the grand. 



I06 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



OUR SONGS. 

Amid the starlit silence of the night, 

Beneath the rustling elm trees dappled shade. 

From blended voices rise our college songs, 
And echo softly through each leafy glade. 

A maiden slumbers and her fair young face, 
Bathed in the dewy tenderness of sleep, 

Beams with a smile, as through her dream-led brain 
In bright succession fairy fancies creep. 

Faint, from the witching distance, sweetly borne 
Upon her ear, the mellow cadence swells, 

And half awake she thinks her dreams are real, 
And to the listening night, her visions tells. 

She hears, as on the wind the song expires, 

One silvery voice, whose tones, well knows her 
heart, 

That sounds through all her castles in the air, 
And doth new magic to each hope impart. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 107 

Over his dreary task a student sits, 

While on the ancient, cobwebbed, grimy wall, 

From lamplight streaming o'er each grotesque shape, 
A hundred odd fantastic shadows fall. 

He rests his head upon his hand, and dreams 
Of a bright future, of enduring fame, 

Nay, in his thoughts e'en now ambition graves 
On fame's grand column his immortal name. 

The music's spell o'er his tired spirit steals 
And finds responsive echoes in his heart, 

So in wild chaos strewn he leaves his books, 
And seeks the fence to lend the song his part. 

Youth ever lives within a golden age 

Where music weaves its wreaths of golden dreams. 
Farewell to dreamless sleep, to toil, to care, 

'Neath spell of music and of starry beams. 



io8 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



A DOLLAR OR SO. 

Our Tom is an excellent fellow, 
Gay, witty, handsome and free; 

In field or in cloister a marvel — 
A notable Crichton is he. 

But one deplorable failing, 

It causes us deepest regret, 
For among Tom's various talents, 

He's a talent for getting in debt. 

We'd forgive him his bills at the tradesmen's, 
His dread of some people we meet, 

The fact, when he goes to the boat-house, 
He can go by only one street : 

But he borrows from every acquaintance — 
He wants it for '' only to-day " — 

Some insignificant trifle 

They never would ask him to pay. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER IO9 

And Tom's such a high-minded fellow, 

He thinks not of matters so low, 
And — all of his friends are the victims 

Of " Lend me a dollar or so," 

Refer, howe'er gently, to payment — 
You so overwhelmed with his grief 

That you'd lend him your ultimate quarter 
To give the poor fellow relief. 

But again in a week he returneth, 

" To trip the fantastic I go ; 
My dress coat is down at my uncle's j 

Pease lend me a dollar or so." 

If he dies in the world's estimation. 

The cause let this epitaph show , 
He was generous, handsome and brilliant, 

But he died of — a dollar or so. 



I IO BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



DISCONSOLATE. 

Oft have I seen him wandering alone. 

With mournful, downcast eye and footstep slow. 
When naked, shivering boughs above him groan, 
And cold winds blow. 

What griefs are his ? Is his sad heart o'ercast 

By bitter memories of days gone by, 
Dark shadows called up from the phantom past 
That never fly ? 

And as I pass him, silently he turns 

With longing gaze. Sometimes his pale lips part 
To body forth a sad refrain that burns 
Into my heart. 

And then, he loves too well to steal away 

My choice cigars, and cheat me if he can. 
Betimes I wish that somebody would slay 
That old clothes man. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



A GEOLOGICAL ROMANCE. 

On the shore of the ocean primeval, 

In dim geological times, 
'Neath bowers of flourishing Fucoids, 

The heroine dwelt of my rhymes. 

In telling the charms of a lady, 
We give but fractional praise ; 

Propriety holds down the curtain 
We're secretly wishing to raise. 

But I'll give the fullest description, 
Me modesty need not appall ; 

This maid had a head and a body, 
A delicate skin over all, 

She'd a mouth, a foot microscopic, 
In manner was mild as a lamb ; 

In short she was only a bivalve, 
A mollusk, a salt-water clam. 



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She was happy and careless as ever 
Clams are, until she was taught 

The lesson of love by an oyster, 

And the sweet little creature was caught. 

Oft they met in a grove of the Algae, 
The silvery sand was their sod, 

And they whispered their love to each other 
While warbled the Brachiopod. 

Echinoderms sported round them ; 

The Polyps with joy at the sight 
Struck work at making their corals, 

And went on a general "tight." 

Said he, " Be my bride, O thou elfish 
Gay naiad." " O yes, my dear lad, 

But mount some moveable shellfish. 
And ask my respectable dad " 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 1 1 3 

" Lamellibranchiate honored." 

The Acephal opened his shell, 
And bowed in proud condescension 

To hear what news he would tell. 

"I 've aspired to the foot of your daughter, 

Although a plebian I am, 
O quiet this passionate yearning 

By the gift of your dear little clam. ; ' 

" Rash upstart, depart from my presence, 

Such longings are folly in you, 
Do you think I'd marry my daughter 

To an oyster, a mere parvenu ?" 

" Your ventral segment's entirely 

Too large for one of the ton, 
You've only one hinge to your shell, sir, 

You're an object to moralize on." 

Then the oyster turned away sadly, 
His pallium drew o'er his head, 



1 14 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

" Oh mollusk, oh clam, stony-hearted, 
I wish to the deuce I were dead." 

He turned to his dear little bivalve, 

(A rudimentary eye 
Just now would be really welcome, 

For pathos demandeth a cry.) 

Then she said, " Let us fly from my father 

Some azoic island our goal, 
Pooh ! wicked !" (How very convenient 

It is not having a soul.) 

"We will rear us a house of the sea-weed, 
What happiness greater than this, — 

To have a pre-adamic Eden 

With the joys of connubial bliss ? " 

She yielded, and straightway they mounted, 
On a swift sailing argonaut's shell, 

" Come back, come back," followed after 
In tones they knew but too well. 



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But horrors ! a cuttle-fish rising 

Bumped into their vessel by chance. 

It tumbled them into the water, 
And ended their little romance. 

Like the whale that gobbled up Jonah, 

He took each into his maw, 
But unlike the whale's, his digestion 

Followed quite the natural law. 

On the shore of the ocean primeval, 

Where the Apiocystis doth grow, 
There is heard a grating of clam-shells, 

That's highly expressive of woe. 



I 1 6 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER- 



THE SPIRIT OF SADNESS. 

In the mellowed glow of the twilight, 
I'm sitting and thinking alone, 

And sweet is the sound of the wind-harp, 
As it telleth of joys that have flown. 

And my soul is accord with the music 
That breathes in the tops of the trees, 

And my eye in each shadow fantastic 
The spirit of mournfulness sees. 

And over my being the syren 
A subtle enchantment has cast ; 

No longer I look in the future, 
But sadly I gaze on the past. 

'T is the realm of the spirit of sadness, 
And sweet are the murmurs that fill 
Each mountain and dale ; but they echo 
' With many a voice that is still. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

The chiming of silvery voices, 

And the fragrant floweret's breath 

Float by, but the breezes are tainted 
By sorrow and weeping and death. 

The noble, the true aspirations 

That thrill as they wake in the soul, 

Are deaf to the song of the banquet, 
Are still in the " Knights of the bowl, 

But stirred by the voices of sadness 

The highest emotions arise 
In the bosom of man, and the sorrow 

That dwells in the depths of his eyes. 

Is changed into peace, and the cypress 
Gives place'to a crown of the bay ; 

Grief turneth to joy as the darkness 
Melts into the flush of the day. 



1 1 8 BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 



ON THE BAY. 

The sun's last gleams have died on the ocean's 

breast, 
His crowning glories left each purple crest, 
The gold has melted from the clouds away 
And nature mourns in gloom the dying day. 

And now the azure vault is studded all 
With twinkling stars whose quiv'ring arrows fall. 
Quick, darting, down the clear etherial steep 
And wake to sparkling smiles the tossing deep. 

While far adown the eastern sky serene 
Announced by wav'ring path of silver sheen, 
The moon arises and her witching light 
Wraps all the senses in a calm delight. 

Fast flying on before a fav'ring gale. 
Over the gleaming bay, with every sail 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER 1 1 9 

Spread to the wind, our boat speeds on her way, 
Dashing the curling waves to crystal spray. 

And as we chase the glowing hours along, 
We time their footsteps with a merry song, 
The music ripples down our foaming track 
Till distant cliffs send ringing echoes back. 

How many a twice-told tale's repeated then, 
And all applaud till echo lands again, 
How float the smoke-wreaths to the starry skies, 
And common pleasure strengthens friendship's ties. 

And as we pass we hear the waves and tides 
Dashing and gurgling round each vessel's sides, 
While faint and dreamy to our tossing boat 
The chimes of inland bells so mellow float. 

Homeward we turn for o'er the water's face 
The veiling mist is creeping on apace, 
Trailing its humid garments o'er the sky, 
And soon, too soon, the starry beauties die. 



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And as we moor our boat beside the land, 
Or tread with lingering step the speckled sand, 
A shade of sorrow o'er our joy is cast — 
Another golden day of dream-life's past. 



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PARTING ODE. 

Farewell, farewell ! sweet echoes rise 

From out our happy past, 
And as we list, our saddening eyes 

With tears are overcast. 
Oh, halcyon days that joy and youth 

Have made almost divine, 
The end has come, oh, bitter truth, 

Your suns no longer shine. 

Four years have been a sweet romance, 

All free from sombre care, 
A visioi in a gentle trance, 

Soft floating in the air ; 
Now comes the sad awakening, 

Now fades our lovely dream, 
While memories the moments bring 

For earth too lovely seem. 



BRIEFS BY A BARRISTER. 

But every glowing, happy hour, 

With all the joy it knew, 
Will wake and thrill with wondrous power 

Our slumbering souls anew, 
Yes, when our locks are turning grey 

We'll live this life once more, 
Again our spirits will be gay, 

As in the days of yore. 

But sad the thought will ever be 

Of this our last farewell : 
Still, though we part, old Yale, from thee, 

Thy glories we will tell ; 
And for the sake of what has been, 

Of peace and love and glee, 
We'll ever hold, our hearts within, 

Thy name, dear Seventy-three. 



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